Welcome to Your Poetry Dot Com - Read, Rate, Comment on, or Submit Poetry. Browse Poetry Forums, or just enjoy other parts of our poetic community.
One of the largest databases of poetry on the net, now over 198,500+ poems!
Welcome to Your Poetry Dot Com    Poems On Site: 198,500+   Comments On Poems: 427,000+   Forum Posts: 105,000+
Custom Search
  Welcome ! Home  ·  FAQ  ·  Topics  ·  Web Links  ·  Your Account  ·  Submit Poetry  ·  Top 30  ·  OldSite Link 29-May 16:23:31 AEST  
  Menu
  Home
· Micks Shop
· Our eBay Store· Error Submit
 Poetry
· Submit Poetry
· Least Read Poems
· Topics
· Members Listing
· Old Site Post 2001
· Old Site Pre 2001
· Poetry Archive
· Public Domain Poetry
 Stories
· Stories (NEW ! )
· Submit Story
· Story Topics
· Stories Archive
· Story Search
  Community
· Our Poetry Forums
· Our Arcade
100's of Games !

  Site Help
· FAQ
· Feedback

  Members Areas
· Your Account
· Members Journals
· Premium Sign-Up
  Premium Section
· Special Section
· Premium Poems
· Premium Submit
· Premium Search
· Premium Top
· Premium Archive
· Premium Topics
 Fun & Games

· Jokes
· Bubble Puzzle
· ConnectN
· Cross Word
· Cross Word Easy
· Drag Puzzle
· Word Hunt
 Reference
· Dictionary
· Dictionary (Rhyming)
· Site Updates
· Content
· Special Content
 Search
· Search
· Web Links
· All Links
 Top
· Top 30
  Help This Site
· Donations
 Others
· Recipes
· Moderators
Our Other Sites
· Embroidery Design Store
· Your Jokes
· Special Urls
· JM Embroideries
· Public Domain Poetry and Stories
· Diamond Dotz
· Cooking Info and Recipes
· Quoof - Australian Story

  Social

Array ( [sid] => 69589 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => My Eyes are Open in a Field of Withered Daisies [time] => 2004-10-31 18:07:42 [hometext] => This poem is about loving someone so much that it can make your heart ache [bodytext] => I've missed you when my eyes are closed,
they are open to me now
I feel most at ease when the season's changing,
when each autumn leaf has kissed the ground;

It's bitterly cold inside,
my lungs feel full of the new day
All the flowers have decayed into fragments of my memory,
and i am thinking of you
and all of your fluttering philosophies;

Your whispers were never louder than a buzzing in my ear,
to tell me that we were never really here nor there,
only existent;

You once said to me "all the flames of my past have dimmed",
it is better to let go of that lingering,
Rather than dwell upon
what it used to mean;

Lying in a field of withered daisies was never so beautiful,
it was raining but my sentiment was impermeable
The raindrops fell in succession from the curls at the tips of your hair,
your fingertips felt like rapture upon my skin,
your lips were wet with a splendor that most will never taste;

I don't want to watch you walk away,
it kills me when you say "you make me happy",
you said, "we are so small out here". [comments] => 3 [counter] => 195 [topic] => 48 [informant] => youknowwho [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )
My Eyes are Open in a Field of Withered Daisies

Contributed by youknowwho on Sunday, 31st October 2004 @ 06:07:42 PM in AEST
Topic: EmotionalPoetry



I've missed you when my eyes are closed,
they are open to me now
I feel most at ease when the season's changing,
when each autumn leaf has kissed the ground;

It's bitterly cold inside,
my lungs feel full of the new day
All the flowers have decayed into fragments of my memory,
and i am thinking of you
and all of your fluttering philosophies;

Your whispers were never louder than a buzzing in my ear,
to tell me that we were never really here nor there,
only existent;

You once said to me "all the flames of my past have dimmed",
it is better to let go of that lingering,
Rather than dwell upon
what it used to mean;

Lying in a field of withered daisies was never so beautiful,
it was raining but my sentiment was impermeable
The raindrops fell in succession from the curls at the tips of your hair,
your fingertips felt like rapture upon my skin,
your lips were wet with a splendor that most will never taste;

I don't want to watch you walk away,
it kills me when you say "you make me happy",
you said, "we are so small out here".




Copyright © youknowwho ... [ 2004-10-31 18:07:42]
(Date/Time posted on site)





Advertisments:






Previous Posted Poem         | |         Next Posted Poem


 
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any comment.
That said, if you find an offensive comment, please contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title etc.
Re: My Eyes are Open in a Field of Withered Daisies (User Rating: 1 )
by savedbydeath on Sunday, 31st October 2004 @ 06:23:30 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
aww!such a beautiful poem,no worries we all get through this type of problem,thats what i'm doing right now,and he promised he'd be here everytime i walked through the door,now when i walk in the door i dont see him,great poem,keep up the great work

savedbydeath


Re: My Eyes are Open in a Field of Withered Daisies (User Rating: 1 )
by Essentially9 on Sunday, 31st October 2004 @ 09:43:08 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
brilliant and well written. i loved it.


Re: My Eyes are Open in a Field of Withered Daisies (User Rating: 1 )
by Stitch on Thursday, 2nd December 2004 @ 04:53:10 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Put your punctuation inside your quotation marks and this will be a perfect write.
Why haven't I discovered your poetry sooner?
Stitch




While every care is taken to ensure the general sites content is family safe, our moderators cannot be in all places; all the time. Please report poetry and or comments that are in breach of our site rules HERE (Please include poem title or url). Parents also please ensure that you supervise your children well when they are on the internet; regardless of what a site says about being, or being considered, child-safe.

Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©

Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster

All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com

All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.

Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com